Chapter 100 She is perfect
My throat was dry. And when I opened my mouth, no words came out.
“I will never dream of accusing you falsely," Fentone, good man that he was, said in a hurry. “Tell me there is nothing to worry about, and I’ll believe you.”
My heart was pounding. I was not sure about the rules of morality anymore.
What would make me a better person, tell him the truth, or throw my own family under the bus?
I turned and started to walk down the lobby. He fell in steps beside me, with his security flanking us.
“As you know,” I swallowed. “I was quite unwell last night. So I thought the best place to rest would be my parents' bedroom. Where no one would disturb me.”
My heart was racing wildly, and I could smell the faint whiff of my own anxiety.
“Oh,” he said, and I glanced sideways to see his eyes soften. “I did look in your bedroom during the…” A shadow crossed his eyes. “While the Luna was dying.”
I looked ahead again, trying not to miss a step. Did he see the unopened gifts? He couldn't have. He would have confronted me.
“Thank you.”
We stepped past the sliding doors into the open air, and walked into the horizontal elevator that took us across the glass bridge to Meridian House on the other side of the academy.
Tamar was waiting for us behind the revolving doors. She beamed at Fentone.
“Mr Miller.” She nodded.
“Miss Villin.” Fentone held his hand out.
And watching their interaction, I again realized she would turn in her resignation letter the moment she found out there would be no wedding. Or worse, that I married other men but continued to lead the president's son on.
“Punctual as always.” Tamar returned her attention to me, and took my hand. “This one's never late, you know.” She wiggled her brows playfully and Fentone smiled.
“Lys is perfect.”
Perfect? I could not bear to look him in the eye anymore. Not with the knowledge of all I had done just last night.
Ten minutes later, I was striking poses in the commercial studio upstairs and nodding to instructions from the in-house photo crew.
The shoot was done in no time. One of the perks of collaborating with the same team over many years.
But Tamar cornered me, convincing me to squeeze in one more session for a product campaign her team could not delay much longer.
Especially as my schedule was about to get really hectic.
I was in the dressing room, all my attention on pulling the black pantyhose on without bursting a hole in them, when the door flew open, hitting the wall behind.
Celeste covered the doorway.
Now, this was the classic horror with skinwalkers pandemic. You immediately distrust everyone.
For a second, I could not determine if this was actually my colleague or one of those damned demons.
Now that they had evolved and did not need to kill a person to wear their skin, there might just be a hundred Celestes in the academy right now.
I spun around and grabbed a lamp. As soon as I lifted it, her shadow fell behind. Normal.
My hand dropped, my fingers twitching around the lamp in relief.
“Celeste...” I dropped the lamp on the desk, and took just one step, when she raised her hand in a halt.
Her face was wrinkled in disgust.
“It would have cost you nothing to pretend,” she sneered, “I would have hated it. But still, you could have tried, put up a little act, pretend to grief!”
Her voice rose with every word.
“She was your Luna! You Grunders love to play boss, but packs have established hierarchy. We are not humans.”
“Celeste… I.”
“You what?” Her eyes fell onto my outfit, one of my legs still in the pantyhose. “Was a black dress too much to expect? Would it have ruined your carefully curated old money aesthetics?"
She was screaming at this point, crying and gesturing with her hand as her entire body seemed to tremble with emotions.
This was more than my choice of outfit. I empathized with her grief, but my eyes were beginning to sting that she would turn her frustration on me.
We were cordial last night. Maybe we can never be friends, but we were cordial.
“I’m sorry.” I yanked the pantyhose off as the first person finally ran in, attracted by the ruckus. “I really am sorry. I was not thin...”
“You fucking bitch.” She lunged at me this time, just as three more people hurried in, and two men caught her, pulling her back. “You condescending narcissist. It's so like you to twist narratives. What the hell are you apologizing for? Apologizing right when there is a witness? Now you are sweet Lys and Celeste is yet again the troublemaker.”
“Enough!” Tamar burst through the door, her eyes like storms. “I'll make sure you're suspended. Second night? Forget about being even a goddamn sister.”
Celeste pushed the men off her as her eyes began to flicker between their natural brown and blue. Her hands caught my eye, and when my gaze dropped, I saw her claws extending.
“Aww.” She made a dramatic puppy eye. “How dare anyone yell at your star ambassador.”
“Celsete…” I whispered in panic, trying to get her to just look at me.
She had no idea how ruthless Tamar could be.
Her job was her god, and for the next one year, I was her job. She would cut down any threat without a flinch. Even if that threat was my own self.
“Principal ballerina. No one dares to call you out, right?” Her eyes flashed, all blue now. “No one dares speak ill of you even when you Grunders killed my mother!”
“What?”
“What are you standing there for?” Tamar glared at her assistants. “Get security to kick her out.”
Kathy, Lucy and Zoey all spun around, scrambling off in their heels.
Tamar was holding my arms now, keeping me from moving closer to Celeste.
“One moment, Tamar,” I strained against her, looking over her shoulder at Celeste. “I have to understand what she’s talking about. Why does she think we killed Luna Octavia?”
Security arrived then, already in a half shift, intimidating. Celeste flinched when they tried to touch her, nose wrinkled in disgust.
And with one final hateful look thrown in my direction, she walked out on her own.
“Do you need something, Lys? Water?”
My head jerked back, staring at my manager.
She and everyone else were as much my problem.
This preferential treatment, endless fussing, was the reason my mates could not stand me, even my own siblings detested me.
“I’ll be fine, Tamar,” I said quietly. “I just need a minute.”
She paused. “You really cannot pay attention to anything Celeste just said. And don’t go asking questions. It’s all useless. Korea is just three days away, you need a calm mind to perform well.”
I gave her a quiet nod.
Of course. It was always about performance.
She, the company and even my own parents only cared about flawless performance, regardless of what it took. Even if it meant trampling all over other people's self-worth and hearts.
Fentone...
I will tell him the truth.
If Grandma was right about the proposal, I could not let him embarrass himself for someone as worthlessly selfish as me.